


For The Order

by rudbeckia



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Armitage Hux is Not Nice, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, M/M, Manipulation, No MCD I promise, Sex for Favors, TRoS Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21859315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudbeckia/pseuds/rudbeckia
Summary: Consider this plot-polyfilla for the dynamic between Hux, Pryde and Ren in TRoS. Here be spoilers.The rape/non-con tag is for chapter 9 only—see chapter 9 end notes for a brief summary.Hux is cowed, stripped of responsibility and sent to work under Enric Pryde on The Steadfast. Supreme Leader Kylo Ren treats him with distrust and disdain, and Pryde’s scorn is obvious.It would be so easy to admit defeat and give up.But Hux has clawed his way up before, and he’s convinced he can do it again.There will be several short chapters because I have no patience. Updated 21st Dec to move the location from the Finalizer to the Steadfast (Pryde’s ship).
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Pryde
Comments: 84
Kudos: 258





	1. Allegiant General What?

Hux glares at the Supreme Leader with undisguised shock.  
“But I am General Hux! I commanded the Finalizer! The flagship of the First Order. You can’t—”

He splutters to a stop, head spinning, gasping uselessly in an attempt to fill lungs paralysed by Kylo Ren’s outstretched hand. His feet leave the polished floor and his vision greys, then he comes to lying on the floor.

Above him, voice seeming to come from underwater, Kylo Ren speaks.  
“How dare you presume to tell me what I can’t do. I can do anything. _Everything._ Get up.”

Hux struggles to his feet, not daring to meet Kylo Ren’s gaze.  
“We were supposed to lead the First Order together,” he says. “Or have you forgotten that you need my army?”

“My army,” Kylo says quietly. “And they will do whatever I order Allegiant General Pryde to command.”

“Pryde.” Hux rubs his neck and dusts down his uniform. “An Imperial relic. The last insult you could have thrown at me—to replace me with one of my father’s cronies. I thought I had disposed of them all.”

“Then your incompetence stretches even farther than I thought,” Kylo says with a sneer. “After all, I’m still alive too. You are dismissed, _general_ , but be careful. I can sense every thought of betrayal that passes through your mind.”

Pryde arrives back on the First Order’s new flagship within the hour and, as commanded, Hux is there to welcome him to the Steadfast. He stands at parade rest until Pryde is almost within reach, then gives his sharpest salute.

“General Pryde, may I formally welcome you aboard—”

“That’s _Allegiant_ General Pryde to you, _Hux._ ” 

Pryde is an unsmiling, gaunt, grey man with an expression of permanent distaste. Hux hides his hatred, carefully setting his face neutral like he used to when dealing with his father.

“My apologies, _Allegiant_ General Pryde.” Hux allows a hint of a smile to soften his expression. “Since we are to be working closely together I assumed a slightly less formal appro—”  
“Well you assumed incorrectly. Transfer formal command back to me at once and show me to the bridge.”

Hux feels his airways tighten as soon as he imagines how it would feel to shake his monomolecular dagger from his sleeve and slash across Pryde’s grizzled gullet. Instead of watching the blood and air froth from a gaping wound in Pryde’s neck, he’s desperately sucking air into his own lungs and trying not to pass out.

On the bridge, after a cursory tour, Pryde waves a hand at Hux and says, “You’re dismissed. High command meeting in two hours. Be there.” 

Back in his new, smaller chambers, Hux regards his reflection in the mirror in his ‘fresher unit with a sigh. There are no red marks threatening to blossom purple on his neck, At least, he thinks with a snort, Kylo Ren is learning a little control. 

He thinks about Pryde with more curiosity than hatred. The pompous ass has Empire stamped all over his ugly visage. He wonders where Kylo Ren even found Pryde. Every known admiral or general of the old Imperial forces, and a good few colonels and commandants, ended their careers at the point of Hux’s blade, or choked on meals delivered by Opan, or suffered fatal accidents carefully orchestrated by his personal team.

_Mitaka,_ Hux thinks, closing his eyes for a moment. _Opan. Paze. Unamo. Thanisson. Peera. And others._ All good officers who aligned themselves with him and offered personal loyalty to their leader, to him, not just to the First Order. 

How he wishes he still had them at his side, but he supposes he let them down too. Another set of smaller failures to add to the loss of Starkiller, the loss of the girl the Supreme leader still obsesses over, and the loss of the Finalizer. He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes.  
“You might think,” he tells his reflection, “if someone rational were in command, that the obliteration of the resistance and the complete collapse of the new republic would be a cause for celebration.”

His reflection looks back at him with a slight frown.  
“Well then,” it tells him. “If this is your penance for betraying Kylo Ren by letting him live and then declaring him Supreme Leader, you ought to learn from your mistakes.”

Allegiant General Pryde, he decides in the sanisteam as he scrubs away the imagined stain of the Force on his skin, must be made into an ally. And together they can _deal with_ Kylo Ren.


	2. Adjustment

The High Command meeting is in fifteen minutes and Hux is still in front of his mirror. His hair is regulation—controlled but without the severity of his usual style—and he knows it looks good because Kylo Ren used to tell him so and run his fingers through it in stolen moments of privacy. 

His uniform is the new style that accentuates his height and his natural elegance, and he smooths his hands over the slight sheen of the fabric and checks the position of his belt clasp just one more time.

It’s perfect. He marches with a confidence he almost feels to the conference room. He’s not the first officer to arrive, so he nods a greeting to the faces, all familiar since he promoted most of them personally, and goes to his old position at the centre of the long, curved conference table. As his hands brush the back of the chair, he stops briefly then moves slowly to the place directly opposite.

“I am sure you have all heard that the Supreme Leader has seen fit to send us another commanding officer to lighten our burdens,” he says with a tight smile. “I assume we will all make Allegiant General Pryde welcome. He’s from the Empire, originally, although I have not yet been informed of his most recent deployment so he may not be terribly well versed in our methods of doing things.”

There are silent stares from his fellow commanding officers.  
“Yes,” one says quietly. “The Allegiant General has briefed us all on the, um, _changes_ already.”  
“He said he has been commanding increased forces in the Unknown Regions,” adds another.

“I see!” Hux struggles to contain his fury at the revelation that _his_ fleet was not the only fleet at Ren’s disposal. He sits down without another word and activates his datapad for the meeting. Others enter and take their places silently. Hux scans the room, observing the expressions of his fellow officers when they think they are not being watched.

 _Good,_ he thinks with a brief calculated smirk. _They’re as rattled as I am._

Pryde marches in with Kylo Ren behind him, and takes the seat Hux vacated for him. The Supreme Leader stands, mask displaying nothing of his thoughts or feelings. Hux watches Kylo openly, searching for the little changes in his posture and the tiny inclinations and tilts of his head that used to betray his emotions.

 _Interesting,_ Hux thinks. _He’s ignoring me completely. Made his point about my punishment already, perhaps, or—_

Hux’s hands grip his knees tightly as another possibility slides into his mind. 

_If Kylo Ren thought I should be replaced, I would not still be here. He would have killed me. This is a lesson. One I can recover from as easily as the bruises._

Pryde is starting the meeting. Hux mentally shelves his contemplation for later and engages in the discussion of First Order strategy with polite deference to both Kylo Ren and Pryde. There is nothing of pressing concern: a rumour here, a sighting there, but nothing verifiable about the location of the girl or her band of deluded followers.

Pryde concludes the meeting quickly and although Kylo never addresses Hux directly, Hux manages to find reason to speak to the Supreme Leader in an appropriately deferential tone. 

_Perhaps Pryde is here to instruct me on the command of a significantly expanded fleet. Well then, I will play this game. I will not be intimidated. And then I will play a game of my own._


	3. Beware generals bearing gifts

Over the next several days, Hux gradually insinuates himself into position. He acts compliant with Pryde’s orders and—at first, at least—chokes back opinions that have not been invited. He has his personal stormtroopers, loyalty programmed from infancy, accompany him everywhere just in case Pryde or the Supreme Leader decide a blaster bolt in the back is a better lesson in humility than this period of obsequious deference.

 _They must know I’m up to something,_ he thinks, _even if they don’t know what it is._

But weeks pass and Hux fancies that Pryde is beginning to thaw. The Allegiant General orders that Hux attend him more and more, and he finds his opinion being asked for and, occasionally, considered.

He needs more. He needs to make Pryde his man, somehow. Hux considers his options. He can’t dangle promotion in front of Pryde like he did Peera, Thanisson and Unamo. He has no incriminating dirt on Pryde like he did Opan and Paze. Pryde is too mature and well versed in the ways of the galaxy to be star struck by a good looking general taking an interest like Mitaka was.

No. He’ll have to use the same approach he did with Kylo Ren as soon as Snoke threw them together as co-commanders. Blatant seduction.

But Kylo Ren was still young, inexperienced, flattered by the attention and compliments Hux paid him. Ren needed coaxing.

 _Oh! Hux... Hux that feels... Hux!_  
At the memory of the first time he’d kissed Kylo Ren and snaked his hand down the front of the young apprentice’s pants, Hux grins to himself. It had led to so much more, all spoiled by Kylo Ren’s greed for power and obsession with a scavenger waif from Jakku.

He styles his hair and checks his uniform. Perfect. One last glance in the mirror confirms that he looks rested, healthier than he has done in months. _Perhaps,_ he thinks with a laugh, _the Supreme Leader has unwittingly done me a favour by cutting my workload._ Then his reflected face sobers. _But Pryde isn’t going to fall for a quick fumble in an empty conference room._

Hux makes his way to Pryde’s private office bearing a small bottle of Hosnian wine. He knocks and enters—that still stings since the office suite had so recently been his own—and offers Pryde a nod rather than a salute.

“Allegiant General Pryde,” he says in a cheerful voice. “I thought it appropriate to offer a small celebration of our successes here on the Steadfast. We have been working together now for—”  
Pryde turns steely eyes on Hux. “Get to the point, Hux, I do not have all evening.”  
“But you do, sir. As your primary adjutant I can access your schedule. Anyway, I brought you this gift. I kept it as a memento of the success of Starkiller. But it is clearly time to move on to bigger things, eh?”

“My primary—”

Hux thinks with building annoyance that Pryde is going to turn down the gift and put him in his place. But Pryde picks up the bottle Hux has placed on the desk and frowns at the label.

“The ‘26! A good year,” Pryde says. His stare bored into Hux. “Poison?”

Hux lets his eyes open wide and his eyebrows rise. He drops his jaw and silently counts to three.  
“Poisoned?” he says in a hushed voice that displays none of his glee. “Absolutely not, sir. A token of the high esteem in which I—”  
“All right, all right. You have some.”

Hux fetches two glasses from the drinks cabinet. He recognises its burnished handle with a start and allows a second of satisfaction that he dealt with its previous owner—his father—in a fitting manner. He opens the bottle and pours two small measures, then takes a small sip from each.

“There,” he says. “I’m still breathing. The ‘26 was an excellent year.”

“I could have you thrown in the brig for drinking on duty,” Pryde observes, reaching for a glass. “But I will make an exception just this once.”

Half an hour later, two thirds of the wine is gone and Pryde is the most relaxed Hux has ever seen him. The collar of his tunic is open by about one centimetre and he is leaning back in his chair with an expression that approximates a smile. They’ve been talking about the Unknown regions, heroes of the Empire, personal recollections of people like Gallius Rax and Rae Sloane, and Kylo Ren.

“You know,” Hux says, pretending to slur a little, “Before Ren became Supreme Leader we were... close associates. Very close.”

“Were you now,” Pryde says, pouring another glass for each of them.

“We spent a lot of time in each other’s company. It forms a certain... depth of relationship.” Hux lifts his glass and pretends to drink.

Pryde sips and closes his eyes for a few seconds. “And you see us developing a certain _depth_ of relationship too, I take it?”

“Whatever it takes for us to be able to facilitate the expansion of the First Order,” Hux says quietly. “That is where my loyalty lies.”

“So you controlled Kylo Ren with a personal relationship until he got tired of you,” Pryde says. “Just how _deep_ did you let him go?”

Hux glares and stands. “I resent that insinuation, sir. I assure you that I have no ulterior motive here. Enjoy the rest of your wine. There is no more, since my Starkiller was successful in obliterating the New Republic.”

He turns to walk to the door with a smile on his face that Pryde can’t see. As his hand reaches for the door panel, he hears the chair scrape as Pryde stands too.

“Wait.”  
Hux stops, affects a neutral tone, turns a little to look over his shoulder and says, “Sir?”

Pryde is looking at him. Appraising. Deciding.  
“All right,” he says. “In the interest of helping each other. What do you want?”

“Information,” Hux shoots back. “I want to know exactly what these additional forces are and how they came about. I want to know why Kylo Ren is obsessed with the scavenger. I want a show of professional respect in front of the other officers and, in due course, I want my own star destroyer to command when you return to lead whatever forces you have at your disposal in the Unknown Regions.”

“I see,” Pryde says. “That is a lot to ask of me.” He looks Hux up and down again then nods. “I suggest you ask again. Nicely.”  
“Allegiant General Pryde, sir, Please—”  
“Not like that,” Pryde says with a sly smile. “On your knees.”


	4. No fool

Hux cocks his head and smiles. “Drunken, naïve fools don’t get to be Generals, Pryde.”

Pryde’s face twists in anger. “This is a transaction and I expect you to—”  
“Oh,” Hux holds up a hand. “I will. _After_ I get enough from you to make it worth the wear and tear on my uniform.”

“In that case,” Pryde says, getting up and advancing on Hux. “You’re not worth it, _Armitage_. Get out. I am not interested.”  
“Oh really?” Hux’s hand shoots out and cups Pryde’s crotch. “I think you are. One convincing show of respect in tomorrow’s strategy meeting and I will return here at the end of the day.” He gives Pryde’s stiff cock a squeeze through his uniform. “For this.”

Pryde stands rooted to the spot, speechless, and Hux leaves.

There’s a High Command meeting next morning. Hux is there, looking perfect and smiling graciously at Pryde, who refuses to make eye contact. Kylo Ren looks from one to the other without saying a word, but Hux can tell he’s unsettled from the little movements he makes whenever Pryde shifts uncomfortably in his chair..

“I think we should not squander resources to the conquest of Ryloth just yet,” Pryde says, looking at Hux. “Do you agree, General?”

Hux does agree, but that’s not the point. “Actually, Allegiant General, Ryloth is a relatively easy target. Pacifists. There is a resistance unit and a token unofficial government supported militia, but they are toothless compared to the might of the First Order. They have attempted to evade our blockade. It is my considered opinion that such defiance ought not to go unpunished lest it gives the impression that the First Order is all bark and no bite.”

He waits for Pryde to respond. After a few seconds of deep frowning and lip-pursing, Pryde sighs.  
“Very well, General. See to it that Ryloth is brought to heel and report to me personally as soon as you have news.”  
When Pryde finally meets Hux’s gaze, Hux is sure Ren scoffs quietly.

Hux sends one star destroyer to Ryloth with terse orders to quell dissent and restore order then he goes about his day as if nothing happened. He’s pleased when another of High Command comms him for authorisation on an urgent matter when the Allegiant General is unavailable.

So he requests entry to Pryde’s private office at the end of the day. He has a report to deliver, after all. Pryde is sitting at his desk, but stands when Hux enters.

“So you actually came, did you?” Pryde smirks. “What of Ryloth?”  
“Now a First Order annex,” Hux replies. “An easy win. Over in a couple of hours.”  
“Are you a man of your word, Hux?”  
“Of course, sir.”

Pryde snorts and unfastens his trousers. Hux walks up to him and palms his crotch again.  
“What’s this?” Pryde snaps. “You’re going to blow me. On your knees.”  
“No,” Hux replies calmly. “I am going to get you off, but if you want more you have to give me more too. Now turn around, Allegiant General. I don’t particularly want to be reminded of your come face in our next strategy briefing.”  
Pryde scowls. “Very well. Take the dagger out of your sleeve first.”

Hux shakes his blade from its sheath and places it gently on the desk where Pryde can see it. Pryde braces his hands on the bronzewood surface, legs apart, bent over slightly. Hux fits himself around Pryde with his hips flush against Pryde’s bony arse, and grips his hip with one hand. The other hand he slides into Pryde’s trousers and clasps his half-hard cock.

“Use both hands,” Pryde demands, “or this is as far as our arrangement goes.”  
Unseen by Pryde, Hux smiles at this command to do something he planned to do anyway. He slips his other hand over the knuckles of the hand currently working Pryde’s cock to hardness and fondles Pryde’s balls.

Pryde lets out a low moan.  
“You know sir,” Hux says quietly, close to Pryde’s ear, “if I knew more about the First Order reinforcements in the Unknown Region, I could make this so much better for you.”

As if to illustrate his point, Hux grinds against Pryde’s ass. He’s equally pleased with and disgusted by his own body’s physical betrayal in getting hard for this Imperial. He thinks of the first time he did this with Kylo Ren, but even with his eyes closed the differences are too obvious to make the task any easier.

_Hux? Hux! Oh... Yes. Oooh you make me feel.... Uh...huh.... faster! Hux I’m gonna—_

Pryde grunts like a happabore on every stroke now and Hux slows down, rutting against Pryde’s ass, finding his cleft through the fabric of his uniform and lining up his own clothed erection with it. It does little for him, but Pryde grinds back.

“If only I knew more about those reinforcements,” Hux repeats.  
Pryde shoves him off and turns. “On your knees for me and I’ll tell you about those.”

Hux brings out a condom and rolls it onto Pryde’s cock. He didn’t bother when it was Kylo Ren, but the idea of putting Pryde’s cock in his mouth bare makes him risk retching. He clasps Pryde’s cock again and cups his balls then sucks on the head of his cock for a few seconds while Pryde grips the edge of the desk so hard his knuckles go white.

“Well then?” Hux says, pulling off.  
“Keep going and I’ll talk,” Pryde says. “The longer you can keep me interested, the more I will tell you.”  
Hux laughs. “You drive a hard bargain, sir. Very well.”

Hux resumes sucking on Pryde’s cock while Pryde feeds him information. When Pryde loses the thread of his short, breathy statements and resorts to groans and grunts, Hux backs off until Pryde recovers enough to tell him more.

“It’s not—”  
“First Order—”  
“Y’ stupid cunt—”  
“It’s—”  
“Emp’ror—”

Hux feels Pryde’s balls tighten and his cock twitches once, more strongly. He Takes Pryde’s entire erect cock into his mouth and works it with his tongue, feeling the pulsing of Pryde’s come filling the condom, grateful that he can’t taste it. With a pang of regret for what might have been, he knows that even now he’d do this bare for Kylo Ren if he would only ask for it.

Pryde yells as his climax overcomes him.  
“LAST ORDAAAAHHH!”


	5. Rabid Cur

Hux leaves Pryde’s office with a slight frown on his brow. The First Order still has his loyalty although he has lost his rank in all but name. It would be a simple thing to slip into resentment that the First Order has, for the moment, not returned that loyalty. The First Order is _his_ and, as if it was a wayward youngling, he will do whatever he must to get it back.

But this _Last Order_ that Pryde yelled on the crest of his climax? That gasped word, _emperor?_

He reaches his own suite and his frown deepens into a scowl. _I owe the Empire nothing,_ he thinks. _Bunch of degenerate old bastards like Brendol. And Brookes. And Pryde. If I’d known where to find them all, where they were all hiding like cowards while I built Starkiller and obliterated the Republic, I would have—_

He stops mid-thought. Someone is requesting entry to his rooms. Hux slowly draws his blaster, holds it level at stomach height, stands to the side of the door and waits. The entry request comes again, and with it a code Hux has not seen for some time. He flattens himself against the wall and readies himself to take a shot, even if it is his last, futile act of defiance.

The door opens. Hux prepares to fire but is frozen in place.

The door closes. Kylo Ren takes the blaster from Hux’s immobilised hands, pulls out the energy pack and puts it down. Next, Ren feels for the blade in Hux’s sleeve, carefully pushing Hux’s sleeve up to bare his arm, and unclips the sheath.

Hux feels like he is being undressed.

The Supreme Leader searches Hux’s other sleeve, his belt, and his boots but finds no more weapons. He releases Hux so suddenly that Hux lurches forwards and falls onto his hands and knees.

He glares up at Ren. “Come to kill me at last?”  
“If I had, you’d be in no position to ask.”  
“What, then, brings Supreme Leader Kylo Ren,” Hux says as he gets back up onto his feet, “to see the rabid cur?”  
Ren huffs out a laugh. “Rabid cur? No. I don’t need a rabid cur.”

“Then what do you want from me?” Hux feels his anger rise and struggles to contain it while Ren smirks at him—an expression that used to drive him into a very different state of mind. Hux flusters a little then continues. “I put up with you dragging me here from commanding the Finalizer to flicking flimsi for Pryde. A very effective punishment. Do you know why?”

Ren merely raises an eyebrow. Hux grits his teeth. “He was one of my father’s cronies. Back in the _good old days_ of the Empire. Supreme Leader, _sir,_ if you put imperial officers in command, you will end up with the Empire back again. Do you see yourself as Emperor?”

Ren looks seriously at Hux. “No,” he says after a pause. “Tell me what you got from Pryde.”  
Hux trembles and his face reddens. “How dare you—”  
“Hush,” Ren holds his hand up. “I know you. I know you will flatter and seduce and find out whatever you want to know and use it to your advantage. You did it to me. So tell me what Pryde said when you had his dick in your—”

“All right!” Hux is halfway to putting his hands over his ears. “All right.” He sighs, rubs his face and glances at Ren before looking away. It feels wrong, telling Ren this, confessing that he exchanged a sex act for personal gain. He feels like he has somehow cheated on Ren even though it has been the best part of a year since they spoke kindly and touched one another with indulgence.

“He _possibly_ mentioned an _emperor_ and something called the _Last Order._ What do you know about that?”  
Hux can tell from Ren’s face that the answer is _nothing_ but he waits for Ren to admit it.  
“If Snoke never mentioned it to me then he didn’t know.”  
“Does that mean _you_ don’t know either?” Hux can’t resist a smug little smile.  
“That is not your concern, _general._ This is not the time for scoring points against each other, Hux.”  
“Whatever you command, _sir._ ”

Ren snaps out his next words so quickly that it takes Hux a few seconds to comprehend.  
“I command you not to seduce Pryde again.”  
Hux stares at Ren, eyebrows raised. “You do not have the authority to command me not to engage in a private act with another general, Supreme Leader.”  
“Allegiant general. He outranks you.”  
“Of course. There would be no point in me dirtying my knees if he had nothing to offer.”  
“And what did you want?” Ren takes a step closer. “Just information?”  
Hux sighs. “Information. Weaknesses. Find his cracks and pry them open.”  
When Ren replies, his voice is leaden. “Like you tried to do to me.”

“Supreme Leader,” Hux says, voice pained. “I can’t help noticing that you seem to be trying to make this about you. I assure you, my immediate concern is to regain my position. Give me a star destroyer and my stormtrooper programme back and I will—”  
“No.” 

“Supreme Leader,” Hux tries a more cajoling tone. “I am an experienced tactician and weapons engineer. Surely I am of more use to the First Order as a—”  
“No.” 

“Supreme Leader, it makes little sense to keep me on such a short leash. You think of me as Snoke’s rabid cur? Let me show you what I can do—”  
“I don’t want a rabid cur.” Ren looks calmly at Hux. “I want a loth-wolf that is loyal only to me.”  
Hux’s mind lights up with a tiny spark of hope. “Ren, I can—”  
“But you are loyal only to yourself. How can I trust you?”

Desperately calculating what to say next, Hux watches Ren and Ren watches him back.  
“You can read minds,” Hux says after a full minute of uncomfortable scrutiny.  
Ren nods.  
“Then read mine. Yes, I once thought of killing you—”  
“Twice.”  
“Twice. Once in shock at Snoke’s murder. And well done, by the way. He was a terrible leader.” Hux takes a deep breath. “And once on that pathetic rebel base on Crait. When you were on your knees after battling some spectre conjured up by the Force and your own paranoia.”

Ren looks at Hux in surprise. Hux snorts.  
“Oh come on, _sir,_ if I genuinely desired your death, you’d already be in the company of Brendol and Brookes and any number of other ex-members of the Imperial Command who deserved my retribution. If you desired my death, I would simply stop breathing.” Hux feels his stomach knot at the words he needs to say.

“Face it, Ren, we need each other.”

Ren’s face twists into a snarl and his hand shoots out. Hux jerks forwards to meet it, but instead of the expected crushing pressure in his throat, he feels a tingle around the edges of his senses that deepens into a dull ache deep in his head. It builds to an almost unbearable sear and Hux is sure he’s going to pass out. Just as he thinks it will last forever, this pain is his life now, Ren releases him and he collapses onto to all fours again.

“Well?” he asks, when he trusts his voice not to falter.  
Ren crouches down to make eye contact. Hux forces himself to meet Ren’s gaze.  
“Find out everything you can about this _Last Order.”_ Ren says. “Bring whatever you discover directly to me.”


	6. Expiry Dates

Supreme Leader Kylo Ren barely acknowledges General Hux at the next High Command briefing. Trying to suppress his fear that Ren will reveal that he knows about the arrangement, Hux watches Pryde’s face as Ren questions him about the Empire and Darth Vader. 

“There are a few Vader cults,” Pryde snaps eventually. “Sir. They’re harmless. Deluded. But perhaps you would find out more from them. Would you like me to seek out—”  
Pryde’s words stop in his mouth.

_Interesting!_ Hux thinks. _He hates Ren. And Ren hates him. I wonder what’s keeping them both in check?_

“No, Allegiant General. That will not be necessary.”  
Ren watches the rest of the meeting. Hux feels the hairs on the back of his neck prickle under scrutiny but he dare not turn to look at Ren in case his expression reveals his scheming.

Once the Supreme Leader has gone, the meeting is concluded and all stand, Hux follows Pryde out.  
“I wonder what Leader Ren will do about the Vader cults,” Hux says once they are away from Ren. “As I remember from our time on the Finalizer, the Supreme Leader is rather protective of his part in his grandfather’s legacy.”  
“The Supreme Leader,” Pryde says with scorn, “can do as he pleases with those cultists.”

“All the same,” Hux says with an ingratiating tone. “Perhaps if—”  
“Please,” Pryde scowls at Hux. “I am not about to heed the advice of the _general_ responsible for the destruction of Starkiller Base, that fiasco with the Supremacy and several star destroyers above Crait, and the scuppering of the Finalizer. Your _rank_ remains simply because it is a lesson more easily learned by your peers to see you humiliated for your failures.”

Hux clenches his fists so that he can relax his face.   
“I was merely going to suggest that if I were _fully informed_ of... of the small matters you brought up _privately_ then I could be of more assistance in your... plans.”  
“Plans?” Pryde rounds on Hux. “What would you know of my plans?”  
“That’s rather the point, sir,” Hux says with a calm smile. “How can I support you effectively if I am unaware of the end goal?”  
Pryde sneers. “Does a stormtrooper need to know the end goal when ordered to open fire?”  
“But every stormtrooper _does_ know the end goal,” Hux replies. “At least they did when I had command of the conditioning programme. Every single stormtrooper knew of the Empire’s corruption, the Republic’s weakness, and the First Order’s quest to bring order to chaos.”  
“I’ll consider it,” Pryde says. “Come to my office this evening and I will inform you of my decision.”

Hux salutes and marches away. He has little real work to do thanks to his drastic reduction in responsibility so he whiles away an hour by reviewing personnel files and identifying officers who were, like him, transferred from the Finalizer. There are few, and none from his personal team.

With a grimace on his face, Hux wonders if he is in a position to be able to recruit the loyalty of lower ranks. After reading down the short list of names and ranks, he decides to find out before he encounters Pryde or Ren again.

Allegiant General Pryde is in his personal office as promised. Hux is admitted after a wait designed to let him know his place, and he waits silently as Pryde taps at a datapad, ignoring him. Eventually Pryde turns his distasteful expression on Hux.

“I considered your suggestion at length,” Pryde says. “Where are your loyalties, Hux?”  
“Where they have always been,” Hux replies. “To myself first, then to the Order. First or Last. Makes no difference to me.”  
Pryde scrutinises Hux for a few seconds then puts down his datapad. “Then I accept.”  
“Yes, sir.” Hux remains at parade rest.  
Pryde gets up to hit the control for the door lock then comes back to lean against his desk. “I rather like the idea of Brendol Hux’s bastard being at the end of my string. Now, get me hard. Hands first. If I like what you’re doing, I’ll talk.”

Hux nods. He shows that he is unarmed then unclips Pryde’s belt and opens his tunic. Pryde leans back a little, palms flat on the desk surface, and Hux can see his breeches bulging already. He massages the bulge through the fabric with his palm.

“Get on with it,” Pryde snaps. “At this rate all you’re getting out of me is a bedtime story.”  
“Yes, sir.” Hux unfastens Pryde’s fly and slips one hand inside, under Pryde’s balls, and slides a finger back along his perineum. Pryde parts his thighs further and closes his eyes.

“Better, but I’m not in the mood to talk yet.”   
“Understood, sir.” 

Hux eases Pryde’s breeches over his bony hips and pulls the fabric aside to free Pryde’s cock. He brings out a condom and opens it.  
“Without that,” Pryde says.  
“With all due respect, sir,”Hux says, “you don’t know where I’ve been. Are you willing to risk a case of the Canto Blight?”

Pryde shudders but doesn’t complain again about the condom. Hux sinks to his knees and takes Pryde’s cock into his mouth. Pryde gives a little sigh of contentment.  
“You are rather good at that,” he says. “The Final Order surpasses the paltry First Order in every way you can imagine.”  
“Hmmm?” Hux hums the question and Pryde moans in pleasure at the sensation.  
“Mmm yes. There’s a fleet that outguns even the old Imperial forces. So many star destroyers it has been a challenge to find competent officers to command them all.”

Hux ignores the subtle insult to his competence and continues working on Pryde’s cock with his mouth. Pryde shifts his weight and eases his back down on his desk surface, feet on the floor, bent backwards.  
“I’m tired of talking,” he says.

Hux takes the hand that has been resting on Pryde’s hip, steadying him, and takes a sachet of medical grade lubricant from his pocket. He smears two fingers then slides them back from Pryde’s balls to his hole, circles the pucker of muscle a few times and then slips one finger inside.

“Aah that’s better,” Pryde says, wriggling a little. “Mmm THERE! Yes.”  
After thirty seconds, when Pryde hasn’t said any more, Hux eases his finger out and stills his mouth.  
“Fuck you,” Pryde says. “Keep going, bastard Hux.”

Hux resumes sucking Pryde off and fingering him, deliberately missing his prostate for the first few thrusts then rubbing it.   
Pryde lurches and cries out. “Ex-eh-go-ol! We join. Whole fleet. Deploy. From there. Aaah! Faster, you pathetic cunt.”

Hux rewards Pryde with a faster pace and a more accurate aim.  
“Ha-a-ah! The gah-ah-alaxy. Doesn’t stah-ah-and. A cha-ha-hance!”

Pryde, judges Hux, is not capable of revealing anything else. He brings Pryde off with a few more thrusts of his fingers and nods of his head, then eases off and up to use Pryde’s private ‘fresher to wash his hands. When he returns, Pryde is already sitting at his desk again, tapping at a datapad.

“Use your information soon,” Pryde says. “I’m sure you know how quickly these arrangements can go off. Get out.”

Hux salutes and leaves, ignored. He returns to his own suite intending to use the ‘fresher.  
But when he opens the door, Kylo Ren is already there.


	7. The loyalty of a loth-wolf

“Supreme Leader!” Hux says, startled.  
“General Hux,” Ren replies. “I gave you a direct order and you disobeyed.”  
“You gave me two direct orders,” Hux says. “It was not possible to obey one without disregarding the other. Perhaps you will see that my compromise was worth it. There’s a huge fleet ready to deploy from somewhere called Exegol. Have you heard of it?”

Ren’s face betrays his shock so clearly that Hux almost laughs. “Are you sure? Exegol?”  
“Yes, Supreme Leader. Exegol. I was about to call up the galactic charts and—”  
“You won’t find it,” Ren says, flatly, with a head shake. Nobody can find it.”  
“Apparently Allegiant General Pryde can find it. Did your new favourite general not tell you?” Hux smirks. “Oh dear.”

Hux uses his ‘fresher, comes out feeling cleaner and sits down. Ren is pacing his living area.  
“We need to find out more,” Ren says. “But watch your back.”  
Hux sighs. “I’m not a fool, Ren. He would not have fallen for my little game if he thought I would live long enough to use the information he gave me.”  
“He underestimates your tenacity and my power,” Ren says, looking at Hux in a way that makes Hux equally afraid and aroused. Then the moment passes and Ren adds, “we need a distraction to keep Pryde busy while my knights and I find Exegol. I will leave that to you.”

“I think I know the very thing,” Hux says, a smile growing on his face. “I made a point of personally thanking the ex-Finalizer personnel who were redeployed to this ship. Turns out a few of them are still loyal to me and have not taken well to their new status.”  
“Oh?” Ren raises his eyebrows.  
“Oh no,” Hux laughs and shakes his head. “Better if you don’t know what I decide to do, or what I may already have done. Your reaction will be all the more authentic if my _treachery_ comes as a surprise to you too.”

Ren is silent, appraising Hux for a full minute. “I will not allow any further _private acts_ with Pryde. Find another way.”  
“I see,” Hux replies, watching Ren’s face, trying to focus on his micro-expressions and not the sheer beauty of the familiar features he has not had the chance to study properly for months. “Why? It has been effective so far. I thought I could push for one more indiscretion.”  
“You know why,” Ren says with a slight growl. “He’s going to try to assassinate you soon. Don’t give him the opportunity.”  
“Why, Supreme Leader,” Hux says, rising to his feet, a little teasing tone in his voice. “It almost sounds like you’d care.”

“I can’t bear to think of you getting pleasure from that man,” Ren says, pointing in Hux’s face. “It devalues what we had. Dirties it.”  
Hux frowns. “Believe me, Ren, the old sleemo disgusts me. I took no pleasure in the act other than satisfaction that I got the information you asked for. It could never be more than a one-sided affair in that respect.”  
 _And I couldn’t take pleasure in it anyway,_ Hux thinks. _He’s nothing. I had you._

Ren leaps for him faster than he can get out of the way. Hux is pinned with his back against the white, plastene wall panel of his living room, and Kylo Ren pressed against his front.

“And I had you,” Ren says with quiet fury. “You’re _mine_. I will not have you debase yourself again. _Do you understand?_ Promise me and mean it.”  
Hux’s face is pink, his head is swimming and his stomach feels fluttery.  
“Yes,” he says, barely a murmur. “I promise.”  
As soon as the words have left his mouth, Ren kisses him.

Hux stiffens and his eyes open wide for a second, then he melts into the familiar tilt of his head and the familiar feel of Ren’s hair between his fingers, the familiar scent of Ren’s skin and the familiar pull of Ren’s hands at his hips.

“Kylo,” Hux says.  
“Shut up,” Ren replies. “Did you think I brought you here to sit on the sidelines?”  
“A punishment,” Hux says. “You hate me.”  
“I wanted everyone to think that,” Ren says. “Even you.”  
“Kylo—”  
“Hasn’t your reaction been all the more _authentic?_ ”

Hux covers his mouth, closes his eyes and laughs until he’s reduced to hiccupping sobs. Ren cups his face and kisses him again.  
“Watch your back, Armitage. He’ll strike soon.” Ren feels for the edges of the hard plastoid plate covering Hux’s torso. “How long have you been wearing body armour under your uniform?”  
“Since I got here. Kylo, Brendol is dead. Brookes is dead. I am still alive and Pryde does not know what he is facing.”

Ren kisses Hux one last time and pushes away. When he has gone, Hux stands perfectly still for a full minute, reliving the encounter, then he calls up galactic chart after galactic chart and studies them. Ren was right, Hux is annoyed to find out. Exegol does not appear on any of them.

But the files on galactic history show a couple of hits. Hux reads them with a deepening frown. “Sith!” he says to himself. “A secret planet of Sith.” He taps his fingers on the desk and thinks, _I wonder who else might want to find a planet like that?_

It takes all night carefully routing messages around, anonymising comms and contacting people he can trust for the next few hours at least. By morning, Hux is exhausted but hopeful, and he owes favours to at least five ex-Finalizer personnel on the Steadfast, plus a few more on other ships scattered around First Order controlled planets.

The more people who are asking about Exegol, Hux thinks, the more likely it is that the planet will be found. And all leaked data trails lead back to one person.

Allegiant General Pryde.


	8. Trust

Hux turns Pryde’s personal code cylinder between his fingers and smiles. It had been easy, a task for lightning-quick fingers when Pryde’s eyes were closed in ecstasy, to pluck the cylinder from its place in the folds of Pryde’s tunic and replace it with the one that held encrypted records of data transmissions between Pryde and a suspected spy on a star destroyer sent to investigate a glacier mining colony suffering from some rebellion against First Order rule.

Kylo will disapprove, Hux knows, but Kylo will forgive him when he realises the benefit to their First Order. At least physical distance dampens Kylo’s ability to sense his feelings. It would be even better if Kylo never found out about that forbidden third, sordid tryst in Pryde’s office.

Whether the officer under suspicion actually is a spy is of no real interest to Hux. As long as the information gets passed along. He waits impatiently for confirmation—a carefully neutral mineral report containing a key phrase—and considers the likely outcomes. 

The information gets passed on, the resistance finds out about Exegol, and the search widens. When the leak is discovered, Pryde faces execution for treason.

The information does not get passed on. Hux’s spy reports that Pryde’s codes were used to communicate the transmission. Pryde is caught and faces execution for treason.

The worst thing that could possibly happen is nothing. The information is not passed on, no help comes unwittingly from the resistance, and Hux has to find a more direct strategy to deal with Pryde. 

He briefly considers sending a transmission directly to all suspected resistance sympathisers, at least those not already in work camps, using Pryde’s code cylinder as authorisation, but rejects it as too direct. He has to assume people like Poe Dameron and Princess Leia are almost as intelligent as he is, since they have evaded capture for so long. And if _he_ received a direct transmission from his enemy he would naturally be suspicious of it.

No, he thinks. The resistance must believe they have earned the information before they will trust it. And the First Order must believe the leak is genuine.

His commlink beeps, and Hux reads the incoming message with a brief thrill of elation. The bait is set. It remains to be seen whether the resistance will swallow the hook.

All Hux can do is wait.

It’s at a High Command meeting a day later that he sees his efforts begin to pay off. The meeting has already started when the door opens and the Supreme Leader walks in, declares that there is a spy, and deposits an object on the polished conference table. Hux shudders at the sight: a severed head with four horns or tusks stares lifelessly from the surface. He looks up and shudders again. It’s not the sight of Kylo, rather dashing in his red-veined helmet, but the lurking Knights of Ren who set Hux’s nerves on high alert. 

_They’re all like Kylo Ren was when we first met,_ he thinks. _Filthy, uncouth, exuding violence. No finesse at all. I’m glad Kylo learned—_

“—General Hux...” The Supreme Leader is speaking Something about _“Uneasy... appearance.”_  
His mind has wandered far enough to send a tingle to his groin. With an embarrassed little start, Hux wrenches himself back into the moment. He offers Ren a nervous smile, a barely suppressed fluster and an insincere, “Well done.”  
Fortunately, before Ren can respond, beside him General Parnadee adds, “I like it,” and the tension in the air puffs away.

Hux has to admit the repaired helmet is striking. He hopes Kylo Ren is not reading his thoughts too closely for the rest of the meeting.

Hux returns to his duties, such as they are. He has time on his hands and he spends it reviewing shuttle manifests, checking his own craft is fuelled and stocked with medpacks and supplies, and decoding the files he downloaded from Pryde’s personal comms onto a secure datapad.

He’s uncomfortable with the prickly feeling that Ren is distrustful of him still. With a deep sigh, closing his eyes, Hux concentrates on the feeling of discomfort and thinks about Ren. After a minute, he gets up and goes to the Supreme Leader’s suite. Ren is going to find out, he knows, and there are less damaging ways for that to happen.

Ren admits him immediately.  
“Sir,” Hux says, saluting. “I have a report for my Supreme Leader.” He sucks his lip and sighs. “And a confession for Kylo, I broke my promise that I would not, uh, see a certain person again for a certain reason but I promise, it was the last time and it was nec—”

The air is knocked from Hux’s lungs as his back hits the wall.

“I said you are mine, Hux.” Ren glares. “Don’t make me change my mind.”  
“That informant you killed,” Hux wheezes and croaks. “Was passing on information that will help you find what you are looking for.”

Ren releases him. Hux sucks in a deep breath and coughs.  
“Please don’t force me to tell you all of what I am doing. Only believe that it is in your best interests. Yes, as you said, there’s a spy.”

Ren steps closer. “Is it you? Are you betraying the First Order?”  
“I am not a fool,” Hux snaps. “When all the communications logs are analysed the _true_ identity of the traitor will be revealed.” He looks Ren in the eye. “I need you to trust me. How much easier will it be to find Exegol if your Jedi girl is also searching for it? You once told me you can sense her presence. So let _her_ find it, and follow her.”

Ren sits down, head in hands, unguarded.  
“I found it, Hux. I’ve been there.”  
“You could have told me. And?” Hux demands. “What did you find? The new fleet?”  
Ren rubs his head and sighs. “Yes, the new fleet. It makes the First Order look like children playing with toys.” He looks at Hux. “I have been offered. The Empire.”

Hux frowns. “And did you accept?”  
“It comes with a price,” Ren says. “The Emperor told me...  
“The Emperor! The Emperor died on the second Death Star, killed by your grandfather.”  
Ren shakes his head and looks away. “Aah. You wouldn’t understand. How could you?”  
Bristling at the dismissive tone in Ren’s voice, Hux says, “Give me the chance to understand. Tell me.”  
Ren looks at Hux, and Hux sees his expression soften. “All right,” Ren says. “He said I have to complete my destiny, become a Sith. Assume his power. Have all the Sith exist in me.”

Hux stares, open mouthed. “You would be the most powerful...” He swallows and struggles to keep the fear from his voice. “Kylo, isn’t that what you want? To be like Darth Vader?”  
Ren huffs. “Sounds good, doesn’t it? There’s more. Snoke was a creation, cloned and brought to life by the Emperor. He has been... inside my head. Steering me from the start.”

Ren shakes his head. “See? You don’t understand.”  
“No, I don’t. But I know when someone more powerful than me is jerking my strings,” Hux replies. “Stars, I’ve done it often enough to others. You would be foolish to trust him. Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Come here,” Ren says, and Hux walks up to him. Ren puts his arms around Hux and holds him close. His voice is hesitant. “I have studied enough Jedi and Sith scripture to know his offer is not what it seems. I will kill him,” Ren says. “But if I fail...”  
“I know,” Hux replies softly. “I will be ready.”


	9. Pride and Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Graphic description of a violent rape of Hux’s mother.  
> See end notes for a brief plot summary.

Ren is gone from the Steadfast again minutes after Hux is dismissed from his company, and this time Hux feels the absence like a gap in his being. It’s both reassuring and terrifying—not as intense or as unrelentingly _present_ as their old bond, but he’s relieved to feel Ren pulling at his edges again.

As he marches along the corridor to his own suite, Hux feels the faint but familiar lurch of a leap to lightspeed and he frowns. There was nothing in the flight plan, last time he looked, about a move out of orbit above the deserts of Pasaana until the local festival was over, information gleaned from any resistance sympathisers using the colourful festival as cover for trading in information, and order restored.

A quick check of his comms confirms the reason. Hux changes direction and marches to the primary hangar where a troop lander has docked.  
“Well done,” Hux says to the young officer he flattered by pretending to have recognised her from exemplary conduct on the Finalizer.  
She stands a little straighter at the praise and salutes. “I thought you would want to know about the prisoner, General.”  
“And you are very perceptive,” Hux replies. “Thank you. I will remember this in your next review.”  
The prisoner looks at him with feral hatred and roars.  
“Well well,” Hux says. “Let’s show you off properly.”

Hux checks where Pryde is, comms him that he has a surprise for him, and orders the guards to escort the prisoner to the Allegiant General. Once the shock and disgust has faded from Pryde’s face, he orders the prisoner to be taken to a detention cell, and snaps at Hux to report to his office as soon as the Wookiee is secured.

 _This is it,_ Hux thinks. _This is where he tries to have me killed. I wonder what it will be?_ He chooses a route well covered by security cameras and busy with teal-uniformed officers. _Can’t shoot me without getting caught here. Can’t stage an accident without compromising too many personnel. No,_ Hux looks around at the stormtroopers he always has guarding his back. _It won’t be one of you._

When he reaches Pryde’s personal office, he turns to the nearest trooper. “CN 7832, please carry out order Hux-aurek-one.”  
The trooper nods and salutes, gestures at their companions and all four march away. Secure that his shuttle will be ready for departure and Pryde’s guards will surreptitiously be replaced by his own, Hux opens the door of Pryde’s office from the side, standing clear of the entry. No blaster bolts fly out to hit the opposite wall of the corridor, so Hux pats down his tunic to feel for the hard, plasma-resistant plating of his body armour, ducks down and peers around the doorway at waist height.

The office is empty apart from a technician adjusting a flimsiplast sheet over a newly installed artwork on the wall: a portrait of a distinguished-looking old man in a cowl. From his history lessons, Hux recognises Palpatine. The technician apologises, salutes, and leaves. Hux stalks in and sidles around, looking for any hidden weaponry. There’s nothing obvious enough that he can find before he hears more footsteps outside, so Hux hastily assumes a position where he can see the door, but is not immediately in front of it, and not standing in his usual spot opposite where Pryde usually sits.

The door opens. Pryde marches in with his swaggerstick under his arm and two of his personal stormtroopers, one in front and one behind.  
“Ah. General Hux.” He draws out the name, elongating the vowels and hissing on the final letter. “Disarm.”  
Hux pretends to be offended. “Surely you don’t suspect me of—”  
“Do it! Or I will order it done for you,” Pryde snaps.  
Hux sighs and shakes his head. “Yes, sir,” he says, pulling up his sleeves and removing his monomolecular blade, then unclipping his blaster from its holster, then putting his booted feet up on the desk one at a time and patting his shins and calves to show that there is nothing tucked inside the soft leather.

Pryde dismisses the stormtroopers, gathers up Hux’s weapons and dumps them in a drawer.  
“You’re a problem,” Pryde says as the door lock engages. “You’re a degenerate bastard, the offspring of a serving slut who thought she could better herself by flirting with her masters. Do you know,” Pryde says with a sneer, “no one was quite sure who your father actually was until your baby-blond hair fell out and grew back orange like Brendol’s?”

Hux is deathly still, face flaming, jaw clenched.

“Yes. I remember quite clearly that dinner party at Brendol and Maratelle’s place on Arkanis. Your birth mother was quite the entertainment once Maratelle left us to our brandy and cigarras and retired to bed. That bitch-in-heat served us drinks. And more.”

Hux feels Pryde’s eyes boring into him but he doesn’t dare react.

“Brendol had her first. The look on her face was a perfect mix of shock and fear. I held her down so that Brookes could go next, then by the time I got my turn the stupid cow was crying and begging so pathetically that I had to slap her a few times just to stay hard. Couldn’t have those two thinking I couldn’t perform, could I?”

All Hux can see is Pryde’s sneer. All he can think about is Brendol, swollen beyond recognition, floating uselessly in a bacta tank. And Brookes, screaming in terror and shitting himself as he took hit after hit from a blaster borrowed from Phasma before Hux decided to put him out of his misery.

 _He wants you to lose control,_ Hux thinks. _Wait. Be patient. Don’t give him an excuse to kill you now and claim it was self defence. There’s only you and him to hear these lies and you have no use for pride._

The sudden realisation of what he is going to do, now rather than tomorrow or the next day, makes Hux smile.

“What are you smirking about, you useless cunt?”  
Hux looks at Pryde’s twisted features, and shrugs. “Why do you think I care?”  
“Because you are going to do one more thing, _Armitage,_ ” Pryde says. “On your back, on my desk, with your ankles over my shoulders. Just because I feel like using you the way I used your mother.”

Hux raises his eyebrows. “I hardly think that was part of our arrangement,” he says.  
Pryde unclips his blaster and levels it at Hux’s chest.  
“I am making a new arrangement,” he says. “For some reason, Kylo Ren has been protecting you. But Kylo Ren will soon lose his rather precarious hold over the Order. The Final Order will see the return of the Emperor and Kylo Ren will be an irrelevant side note in a history book that no one will read. If you want to live, you will do exactly as I command. On your back.”

“I see,” Hux says, frowning. _The fool doesn’t know I’m wearing armour._  
“In that case I suppose I better do as I am told.” _I need to be closer._

Hux walks slowly around to Pryde’s side of the desk. Pryde points the blaster at Hux’s head. Hux stiffens.

“Get me hard first,” Pryde says. “Then get your tight little arse ready for me. Wonder if you’ll squeal like your mother did when I wouldn’t use her sloppy cunt-hole?”  
Hux feels his anger surge and struggles to contain it. Slowly, he unfastens Pryde’s breeches and massages his half-hard cock, then when Pryde shoves the point of the blaster into his face, he unfastens his own and shimmies them down.  
“Legs up,” Pryde demands.

Hux plans his move based on Pryde’s aim. He grunts as he raises his left ankle to Pryde’s shoulder then swings his right up too. As soon as the blaster drops when Pryde is distracted by holding his cock and getting ready to thrust, Hux slams his right boot into Pryde’s face and knocks him backwards, grabbing his knife from the drawer before Pryde sees what’s happening. The old bastard is taken aback but recovers, blaster firing wide, then one bolt catches Hux in the chest and knocks him backwards.

Hux plays dead. Pryde comes closer to gloat, clicking his blaster back into its holster. Hux springs up, blade in hand, holding it at Pryde’s scrawny neck.

“Don’t move,” Hux says. “Make a sound and I will—“  
Pryde makes a grab for Hux. Hux slips to the side and twists himself behind Pryde, arm out, catching Pryde in a headlock.  
“Fool,” Hux spits in Pryde’s ear. “You made an enemy out of me. This is what happens to my enemies.”  
Hux squeezes, and Pryde struggles for a few seconds then goes limp.

From experience, Hux knows that he does not have long. Pryde will regain consciousness in a few seconds. He rips the flimsiplast cover from the painting and wraps it around Pryde’s head, covering his face, and ties it loosely around his neck. Next, he tips Pryde sideways and lowers him onto the floor behind his desk, out of sight of a casual glance, and arranges his hand to fist his cock, then steps on Pryde’s elbow to hold his arm in place.

Pryde twitches and sucks at the flimsiplast, making it hollow inwards across his open mouth. Hux watches, fixing his own clothes and smoothing his hair, ignoring the arm that flails weakly and scrabbles at the flimsiplast. Pryde can’t even moan or cry out as he desperately tries to breathe air that has already been in and out of his lungs several times. He lies still after a minute, but Hux watches for another two just to be sure, then retrieves his own blaster from Pryde’s drawer. 

As an afterthought, Hux takes the swaggerstick from Pryde’s desk, lubes the knobbly end and roughly shoves it into Pryde’s arsehole.

He emerges into the corridor and looks at the two stormtrooper guards.  
“CN 7832, KM 4027, well done. You will both make excellent squadron leaders soon.”  
The troopers salute and reply, “Thank you, sir.”  
“The Allegiant General does not wish to be disturbed,” Hux adds. “Sienn, Please inform his usual guards then come to the main hangar. Kemm, with me.”

There’s a commotion on the way to the hangar.  
“Sir,” Kemm reports. “There are three resistance scum on board. Squadron besh-nineteen have them cornered. They can’t raise the Allegiant General and are requesting the order to execute.”

“Really?” 

Hux sees one last opportunity to cause a distraction that will prevent him from being stopped for a few more minutes. If the hangar security teams are hunting down three resistance members, they will not stop to question why a general would slip out in a transport. 

“Take me there. I wish to see this for myself and give the order in person.”

Hux can’t focus his mind the way Kylo taught him almost five years ago, and he supposes it is the emotional aftermath of taking revenge on Pryde then shooting three of his own personal guard that is preventing him from finding Kylo’s presence.

In the hangar, he boards his prepared shuttle with a nod to Commander Trach up in the command centre, and soon he is in hyperspace with his tracker disabled, wondering just where the kriff he is going to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kylo leaves, Hux feels their old bond returning.
> 
> Pryde summons Hux to his office, threatens to kill him unless Hux will submit to sex. To goad Hux, Pryde boasts that Hux’s mother was raped by Brendol, Brookes and Pryde, he is verbally abusive about her, and about Hux. Pryde forces Hux at blaster-point to lie on his back with his legs up so that Pryde can rape him too.  
> Hux contains his fury until Pryde is distracted, then boots him in the face. Pryde shoots Hux but Hux is saved by his body armour. Hux suffocates Pryde, making his death look like accidental auto-erotic asphyxiation.
> 
> Hux releases the resistance prisoners so that they will cause a distraction while he escapes on a shuttle, aided by a commander he knows from the Finalizer.


	10. Learn to Fly

The small craft, hull scored and paintwork blasted off, glides almost silently through the atmosphere, a chance taken while the glow from sun and moons looks the other way. The pilot—a gaunt man with hollow cheeks, pale stubble long enough to call a beard over sharp features, and calculating eyes—checks his helmet. The vocoder functions well enough now that he has cleared it of sand and dust from his last mission, and the translation unit he salvaged from the chromed head of an imperial era protocol droid he found permanently powered down in a junkyard run by Jawas quietly murmurs in his ear whenever someone speaks anything other than Basic.

He dislikes the colour. It’s white with the black markings of an executioner stormtrooper, but it was the least damaged he could find quickly in the crap markets of an outer-rim world where he could barter unwanted First Order tech stripped from his shuttle with few questions asked beyond _does it work_. His shopping list is getting longer, though, and he needs hard currency for power cells and fuel now that he’s running out of non-essential parts to strip and trade. He checks his body armour, still good if a little scored, and covers up with a shirt and a cloak taken from his first cold bounty.

Apart from the made to measure body armour, the only things he has kept of his former life are his scuffed boots, his blade and his blaster. As his shuttle lands, he scrapes his shoulder length hair back and dons the helmet.

As he descends the ramp, helmet tech telling him there are no large life forms nearby, the bounty puck weighs heavily in his pocket.

A twig-snap behind him makes him spin and drop. His helmet still registers nothing but there is definitely a shape in the darkness. He draws his blaster, thumb over the bioreader that will allow him, and only him, to fire.

“Are you going to shoot me now, or wait until sunrise?”

The helmet sensor still shows nothing but his mind lights up so brightly that it sends him reeling. He takes a step back and trips, lands on his backside, with his blaster aimed at the shape. The blaster is plucked from his hand and sent flying.

“I didn’t expect you to claim me so quickly, general.”

He finds his voice at last.  
“And I never expected to pick up a bounty puck for a dead man,” he says. “You vanished. I scanned First Order channels for weeks, called in every resistance spy I knew of, but not a single person knew where you were. Dead, I assumed.” He huffs, hearing the sound crackle through the vocoder. “Wrong, I suppose.”

“No.” The voice seems uncertain and the shape comes a little closer. “I think... I think maybe I did die. I don’t remember.”  
“Ren—”  
“No! Not that name.”  
“What, then? Kylo? Ben?”  
There’s a pause.   
“I don’t really know.”  
“Well then.” He shifts to his knees and stands up slowly. “Whatever you call yourself. Are we going to reminisce or are we going to get moving? If I found you and don’t take you in, someone else will be along in a day or two to claim the bounty.”

“They won’t find me here, Hux.”  
“That’s not my name any more.”  
“What, then?”  
“I’ve been calling myself Tidge Sloane.”  
“Tidge Sloane.” The voice has a hint of humour about it. “No. Tidge Sloane is not a bounty hunter. Tidge Sloane sells furniture or runs a nice, clean cantina or breeds fancy pets for show.”  
Hux can’t help laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “Better than no name at all. I will call you Kylo until you come up with something else.”  
“Ben,” he says. “You can call me Ben. Come with me. There’s an abandoned settlement nearby.”

Hux follows. He knows Ben’s there although he can’t always focus on his form, graceful as a dancer in the rising moonlight, sometimes grounded and solid, sometimes ethereal and flickering like a low bandwidth holo. But Ben looks real enough when they reach a small camp in a clearing. There is a ring shaped fireplace and a fallen log to sit on protected by the mouth of a cave.

“You live here?” Hux asks.  
Ben nods. “This place is strong in the force. I can connect easily here.”  
“Connect,” Hux says.  
“Yes. I need something. A connection. A link. This is where my mother was when she... saved me.”  
“Your mother saved you?” Hux looks round. “Is she here?”  
Ben smiles. “Not exactly. She became one with the force. I suppose that means she’s everywhere, in a manner of speaking.”

Hux sighs and shakes his head. Ben lights the fire with a gesture. In the flickering orange glow, Hux removes his helmet and rubs his fingers through his hair. Ben’s smile widens.  
“You look good, _Tidge._ ”  
Hux peers at Ben. “So do you. You found a good healer, I see.”  
Ben touches his face where the scar used to run up his cheek and across his brow. “Yes,” he says. “The best.”

Hux watches with questions brewing in his head but the feeling that it isn’t the right time to ask. Ben boils water and offers him tea, which he takes gratefully.  
“A bounty hunter, then,” Ben says. “Why?”  
Hux shrugs. “I have the right skills. Knowledge of the habits of some of my fellow war-criminals. My first warm bounty was the general you gave the stormtrooper training programme to. Most satisfying, even if I couldn’t gloat for fear of being recognised. And this way if someone puts a price on _my_ head I get to know about it. I’m actually glad I officially went down with the Steadfast and supposedly got my dead body buried in the ruins on the surface of Exegol along with the rest of the Sith fleet. No hope of recovering remains, so no way to prove I did not die.”

Ben sips tea too, slowly, as if surprised that it is hot. “I asked for you,” he says.  
“What?”  
“When asked Rey to set the bounty on myself. I told her to request the one they called _The Executioner_ because I had a feeling about him.”  
Hux frowns over his cup. “You... you set a bounty on yourself?”  
Ben looks at him with a slight smile. “How else was I going to bring you here?”  
“Oh I don’t know!” Hux says, throwing his arms out in exasperation. “Send me an invitation? This is... This is typical Ren. Overkill.”

Ben is quiet, staring into the flames, then he turns his head, looking more real than ever.  
“Would you have come?” he asks.  
“Yes,” Hux says softly. “All you ever have to do is ask me. After everything, how could you doubt that?”

Ben smiles. “I’m sorry there’s no real bounty. Maybe I can offer you something else.”  
Hux sighs. “I can give you a list of parts I’ll need to get us off this jungle and—”  
“We’re not leaving.”  
“What?”  
“At least, I’m not leaving. Look, I brought you here to ask you to stay. It’s quiet. The force keeps people away. There’s plenty of space for when we drive each other crazy. I have one visitor and she doesn’t often come here in person. It’s safe. We could...” Ben checks that Hux is listening. He is, jaw dropping, leaning forwards. “We could just... live.”

“Let me check I understand you, Ben,” Hux says. “You survived the Final Order. You vanished. You reappear more than a standard year later on some abandoned planet, and you want me to live here with you?”  
“Yes,” Ben says simply.

Hux has to admit that sitting by a campfire with Ben by his side and as a calm presence in his head is seductive.  
“Forever?” He asks.  
Ben nods. “This is my exile, Hux. I will never leave.”  
“You want me to exile myself with you?”

Ben nods again. “What are the alternatives? Live as a bounty hunter with no planet to call yours? Die when a mark finds a gap in your armour or when your shuttle gets damaged and explodes in atmo? Get captured and delivered cold to some government dealing out justice to war criminals? Live constantly watching your back and looking over your shoulder? Aren’t you exhausted?”

Hux sighs deeply. Ben refills his cup for him and asks if he wants food. As if he’s flicked a switch, Hux suddenly realises he’s hungry, and Ben laughs. Hux follows him a short distance into the cave and exclaims at the conservator and comms unit Ben has scavenged parts for and rebuilt.

“I sensed you making up your mind to stay, even believing that we’d be living like hermits,” he says. “This is all powered by a solar energy trap in the canopy. There’s limited geothermal that we could exploit if you were willing to sacrifice your shuttle’s weapons and shields to make a drilling rig.”  
“And I suppose the rest of my shuttle could make a passable bunk-room,” Hux says. 

Ben’s voice stays calm but Hux can sense his growing excitement.   
“You’ll stay?” he asks. Hux answers without a word. “You’ll stay,” Ben confirms.  
“Tonight,” Hux adds with a wary edge. “I’ll stay tonight.”

Ben reheats some kind of stew and they eat without exchanging a word. When Hux has finished his portion, Ben takes his bowl and sets it aside, then strokes Hux’s hair back from his face.  
“I like this,” he says. “you look disreputable.”  
“I’m a bounty hunter, remember? We’re all scum.” Hux looks sideways at Ben. “What about you? What are you now if you’re not Kylo Ren?”  
“Are you afraid I’m nothing without the Order?”  
“Like me?” Hux shrugs. “A lot can change in a year.”  
“But you still find me... attractive.”

Hux laughs. “Ben, I have thought of no one else. I killed Pryde.”  
“I felt your fury halfway across the galaxy.” Ben reaches a hand out and touches Hux’s knee. “When you unleashed your anger at him, I fed from it. So dark, powerful.”  
“But you’re not Kylo Ren any more. Not a Sith. Jedi?”  
“No. Something else.”

Conversation lapses again since neither of them wants to talk. After a while, Hux stands up and stretches, offers Ben his hand and says, “You’re a terrible host. You asked me to stay but you have not shown me where I sleep.”  
Ben stands up too, takes Hux by the hand, and leads him deeper into the cave. There is a snug looking bunk with a stuffed mattress and blankets.  
“Where will you sleep?” Hux asks, eyebrow arched.  
Ben points at the bunk. “With you.”  
“We could sleep in the shuttle,” Hux suggests, but senses Ben’s discomfort at that idea. “Or not,” he adds. “Are you concerned that I might knock you out and fly you off to claim a bounty that does not exist?”

Ben pulls a face. “Honestly? A little.”  
Hux huffs out a soft laugh. “Well then. Your bunk will have to do. I must say it is nowhere near as spacious as my suite on the Finalizer where we last spent a night together, but I am sure we will make do.”

Ben is standing very close, turned towards Hux, and Hux is very aware of his presence. He turns to face Ben, sees the look in his eyes and smiles.   
“It feels like a lifetime ago the last time you looked at me like that.”  
“Like what?” Ben asks.  
“Like you’re starving and I’m a banquet.”

Hux closes his eyes as Ben’s lips brush his once, twice gently, then a third time with such hunger that Hux retreats from it in surprise. He breaks off, recovers in a second, and throws himself at Ben. His arms catch around Ben’s neck and his body armour pushes against him at the edges where it chafes, but he barely notices and doesn’t care. He kisses Ben hard, lips parted, pulling at Ben’s lip and meeting his tongue. He’s almost delirious with how much he has missed this, missed Ren or Kylo or Ben or whatever he wants to be called today.

“You still wear body armour,” Ben says, smiling against Hux’s lips.  
“I still work with people who want to kill me,” Hux replies. “A little discomfort is worth it.”  
“You won’t need it here,” Ben says. “I promise. Nobody can ever find you here unless you want them to. The force—”  
“Shut up about the kriffing force,” Hux says. “Or you’ll talk about it all night. I’m not in the mood for talking.”

Ben laughs and frees himself from Hux’s grasp. He helps Hux out of his jacket, then Hux unfastens Ben’s robe and pushes the fabric from his shoulders. Ben pulls Hux’s shirt over his head and Hux pulls at the tie of Ben’s loose trousers. Eventually they stand nude, facing each other in the dim orange glow from the embers of the campfire just outside the cave entrance.

Hux strokes his hands over Ben’s shoulders, his side, his stomach.  
“All healed,” Ben says.  
Hux glances at his own scars. He has a few faint silver lines from his fight to rise through the ranks, and a rough, white burn where the body armour saved his life—but not his skin—from Pryde’s point-blank blaster shot. There are a few reminders of bounties he has collected, a mottled patch here and a set of parallel claw marks there, but nothing deep.

“Learning curves and marks of respect,” he says. “I either deserved or earned all of these.”  
Ben nods, leans in and kisses a pink and white line that runs over his upper arm. Hux points at the bumpy regrown skin on his chest. “A parting gift from Pryde before I killed him.”

Ben looks at Hux’s steady gaze, closes his eyes and rests a warm hand over Hux’s abdomen. Hux feels a slight tingle that grows to an almost unbearable intensity. He lets his head fall back and his mouth open, and he gasps at the sensation that is somehow both burning hot and intensely cold.  
“Ben,” he says when the feeling subsides. “What was that? What did you—”  
“Feel,” Ben says. He takes Hux’s hand and guides it over the smooth, new skin where the burn had been. “It’s like he never touched you. You’re mine, Hux. You always were.”

Hux pats and prods around the permanent graze where his armour rubs and finds the skin soft and supple, dry and painless. He feels for the raised ridges he earned when a bounty chose a juvenile wampa as a guard animal, and again his skin is undamaged. In disbelief, he feels for the inch-long scar he got by slicing open the skin of his right knee in a futile attempt to slip through the gates of the Hux family home on Arkanis to run away from Brendol when he was four years old. It has gone.

“What...” he says, but can’t form a coherent sentence in his head.  
“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” Ben says. “Or I risk talking about it all night.”

Hux takes Ben’s hand and leads him the two steps over to the bunk. He sits on the edge and swings his legs up then shuffles over on his side to make space for Ben. Ben lies beside him, facing him, and strokes his face. He loses track of how long they simply lie together without talking, learning the new contours of each other’s skin and muscle built by a different lifestyle. Ben admires Hux’s sinewy muscle and Hux admires Ben’s softer features, until Hux feels his eyelids droop heavily. Ben tucks Hux into the curve of his arm and kisses him until he falls asleep.

*****

When he wakes, it is still dark. He’s warm and Kylo is wrapped comfortably around his back. The only things missing are the perpetual thrum of the ion drive engines and the hum of the electrical systems, so he frowns and shifts then remembers that he is not in his bed in his suite on the Finalizer. The realisation hits him with relief.

“Ben,” he says, voice mumbly with sleep.  
“Mmm?”   
“I won’t leave today.”  
“Mmm.”  
“I mean it. Maybe I’ll decide tomorrow.”

Hux kisses Ben’s face, rubbing his soft beard across Ben’s sparse stubble. Ben strokes Hux’s long hair back from his face and holds him closer.  
“Idiot, you’ve been saying that every morning since you got here. How long has it been since you coasted your shuttle over to the clearing and started cannibalising it for parts?”  
Hux laughs and Ben laughs back.  
“The only way you’re taking off from this planet is if you sprout wings and learn to fly.”


End file.
